If I am going to be your bitch for the next six weeks, at the very least could you stop boxing me out of the circle during morning rounds? Or maybe say hello once in a while?
I understand the heirarchy. I’m used to and okay with being treated like crap as a medical student. I am at the bottom of the totem poll and I know what comes along with that.
For example, on my first day in the operating room at this particular site, my attending made me sing. “She’s Always a Woman,” by Billy Joel. Well, at least I knew the words. You get used to mortification pretty quickly on your surgery rotation. You also get used to nastiness. If there is a gangrenous, purulent ulcer that extends from a man’s upper thigh and erodes through posterior to his testicles, guess who’s gonna pack it? Yes, me. If someone needs vitals, a pen, a granola bar, gauze, or even coffee… I’m the gopher. If someone does something wrong, it is always the med student’s fault. Once an attending asked me,
- Do you know the four ways a medical student can cut a stitch?
- No, sir, I do not.
- 1) Too short; 2) Too long; 3) Too fucking short; and 4) Too fucking long.
I am okay with the scut work. I’ve learned to take things less personally. It’s all part of the process. But I am not okay with any of this if I’m not learning. It’s only worth it if you are learning. Last week I began the last six weeks of my rotation at a new site and I hate it. Traditionally it’s the residents who do the teaching on the surgery rotation. You spend the most time with them, you are part of the their team, and they teach as they go. Our residents, on the other hand, don’t speak to us. Actually, they don’t even look at us. Seriously. It’s kind of weird and creepy how they can actually act like we do not exist for the full 14+ hours a day we are at the hospital with them.
I am just disappointed. I loved my two weeks on the trauma team so much so that I am now (crazily and perhaps transiently) considering going into surgery. But I’m starting to reconsider, this sucks.